


our secrets, our hearts, together

by ninemoons42



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Battle Couple, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Feels, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Protectiveness, Sharing a Bed, Vignette, handwritten fic, story told in pictures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-21 17:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: Scenes from the lives of Noctis and Prompto, as they realize their feelings for each other, as they act on those feelings, and as those feelings act on them.





	1. day 1: first kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I took a different approach to my fills for Promptis Week 2018 (SFW): I decided to write my fills for my chosen prompts out by hand, and I intentionally challenged myself to keep each scene short and complete -- and yet somehow they all still hang together to tell the full story. Got lucky I guess :)

  
[obverse]  
day 1: first kiss  
It’s not any kind of special day, Prompto thinks when he throws himself into the rain-damp grass, when he hears the reluctant squelch next to him. The shadow and the shape of Noctis, muttering next to him as he has, all day long, but when Prompto turns his head and starts to ask, starts to reach out,  
  
[reverse]  
he thinks he hears the odd mutters stop and he’s looking up into clear miraculous resolve, eyes bluer than the aftermath of a thunderstorm, and Noctis is -- is kissing him, sweet and soft and he seizes a handful of collar, and returns this kiss.


	2. day 2: “why do you think I’m so special?”

  
[obverse]  
day 2: “why do you think I’m so special?”  
He’s itching to take off the sashes, the chains, the pretty baubles that are so much deadweight. He’s itching to hide from all the eyes on him. He’s itching to, to sleep, to run, to warp away: but he turns the corner and there’s a hand slipping into his, deceptively  
  
[reverse]  
slim and shapely fingers to draw him away, and golden light in golden hair. Prompto, pulling, and his gaze is the one Noctis wants and needs, and he says so: and he gets a laugh and a hurry of a kiss in response, and this is how he wants to be _cherished_ , he thinks.


	3. day 3: “I’m in love with my best friend”

  
[obverse]  
day 3: “I’m in love with my best friend”  
He wakes up from dreams of snow-toothed mountains and the sob he’s stifling even before he knows he’s doing so, and the blankets rustle from very close by, and: shit, Noct is awake and muttering at him. “Love you. Gonna be okay. We’ll make it okay, Prom.”  
  
[reverse]  
And he asks, he has to ask: “Love you too, but, Noct?”  
Arms around his waist, banding, anchoring him. “Yes. Just, yes, Prom. I do. And thanks for saying it back.”  
“Of course I’d say it back. What else could I do?”  
Sweet luminous smile, that is more real than nightmares and doubts.


	4. day 4: hurt/comfort

  
[obverse]  
day 4: hurt/comfort  
He can’t smell the flowers, can’t turn towards the soothing rasp of salt on the sea-wind, for the weight of his tears, the weight of his rage, for the expectant stares of Ignis and Gladio: now he’s all that’s left of Lucis, of Insomnia itself, and he’s no ruler, no good, he’s not a king --  
  
[reverse]  
Shadow, nearby: without thinking he lashes out, and then his arm is blocked by a broadened shoulder, by sweet resigned affection in sylleblossom-hued eyes, and: “Prom,” he gasps.  
“Yeah. Yeah.” Not even any kind of coherent thought: just sympathy, acceptance, and he crashes forward into Prompto, shaking.


	5. day 5: “I got your back”

  
[obverse]  
day 5: “I got your back”  
He’s going to lose his voice again, he thinks; he’s going to sound like all kinds of hell in the morning, or when he’s woken up to keep pushing forward: he’s the eyes covering the full sweep of the battlefield, calling out locations, calling out every kind of warning.  
Flash of splintering blue-light flight, too close, and  
  
[reverse]  
he squeezes off one precise shot and another, and he doesn’t quite miss the boom of the void that Noct leaves in his wake with every warp-strike: he just holds on to the swift smile, to Noct speaking for both of them, in the echo of: “Love you.”


	6. day 6: Noctis spoiling Prompto

  
[obverse]  
day 6: Noctis spoiling Prompto  
The peace of a babbling river, of a lure and a hook on gossamer-strong line, of fish-flip and streams of air bubbles: the soft peace of it, and -- he looks over because he can no longer hear the click of a shutter, the eager steps of framing a shot, and Noctis smiles:  
  
[reverse]  
because Prompto is thrown flat-full-length on the shore, fast asleep.  
And Noctis abandons his pole and line and hook: picks flowers, little pretty braids of grass, and starts weaving those colors into hair brighter than the late-morning sun.


	7. day 7: bed sharing

  
[obverse]  
day 7: bed sharing  
Moonlight, golden-cool, in a night that he knows will end -- and that’s not the miracle, or that’s not the only miracle that Prompto knows.  
Because beside him, in his bed, is Noctis. Finally sleeping easy despite the bandages, despite the crisscross of lines and age in his face. Noctis, bringing back the dawn, and  
  
[reverse]  
himself restored to life. Noctis, here, alive --  
Ten years without the echo of his heartbeat, the rasp of his breath, the warmth of him, just him.  
Prompto pulls him closer, closer, carefully: holds him, the reality of him, the truth that he’s back for good -- and if he cries himself to sleep, then no one has to know.


	8. day 8: free day (be at peace, be free)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned for _character deaths_ in this chapter. I promise it's nothing hard or gratuitously sad. More of "at the turning of the tide", if you get my drift.

  
[obverse]  
The story goes like this, in the hereafter, changed and made different, but it always goes:  
In the end, the King of Light still had to lay down his life's work, and the power of his blood, and so the day came and he was found on his throne, a smile like dawn frozen on

  
[reverse]  
his face, his heart gone softly silent and still. His hands entwined in his lap -- and laid upon the head of his beloved, the one called his consort and his true silver heart.  
They say the king and his love were laid to rest in one single bed of stone, set so their names were lit by the first and the last rays of the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Tumblr at my FFXV sideblog [@ninemoons42-lestallumhaven](http://ninemoons42-lestallumhaven.tumblr.com/) or at my main [@ninemoons42](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
